Commentary: America is here to save the World Cup in 2026. You’re welcome, world.

It should not be considered an insult to the incredible athletes we’ve been watching for the past month to admit that this has been the worst men’s World Cup in memory.

It’s not the games themselves, which have featured breathtaking performances, stirring underdogs and fascinating plotlines that culminate in Sunday’s titan-vs.-titan final of France-Argentina: It’s impossible not to be absorbed by every match.

But everything surrounding this World Cup has been a disaster, from the human rights abuses of the Qatari government (and Fox Sports’s relentless carrying of water for the regime) to the stifling of political speech to the compressed game schedule to the simple fact that it’s nearly impossible for your average soccer hooligan to buy a beer there.

Even the timing of this World Cup has been a mistake. Because Qatar is so hot in the summer – and because the organizers were unable to deliver the air-conditioned stadiums they promised when FIFA gave Qatar the World Cup back in 2010 – the 2022 World Cup had to move to November, when the sporting calendar is jam-packed with competing options and everyone is desperately trying to get their holiday shopping done. Having the World Cup in November is like having the Super Bowl in May or the World Series in a dome. It feels like a violation of the natural order.

This was all a result of the calamitous and entirely corrupt FIFA decision to have the men’s World Cup in Qatar in the first place. While that decision did provide the desired effect (putting millions of dollars in the pockets of FIFA officials), it’s undeniable that the soccer world will be eager to put this train wreck of a World Cup in the rearview mirror as quickly as possible and move forward to more normal World Cups in the future. And guess where the next World Cup is? That’s right: North America is about to be a part of the greatest rebound relationship since Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively.

The 2026 men’s World Cup will be hosted by the United States (11 sites), Mexico (three) and Canada (two), and, like an office that ousts an unlikable, abusive boss and replaces them with just a regular human being, we’re about to look like heroes.

Just about everything Qatar got wrong will be fixed at the 2026 World Cup. The stadiums where the games will be played aren’t being built just for the World Cup, allowing for an existing infrastructure with experience hosting large-scale events. The tournament will be held in June and July again, which will not disrupt the top European leagues the way this tournament has. The field will grow from 32 to 48 teams, which could cause some competitive issues but unquestionably expands the canvas – with more countries involved and a decreased likelihood that soccer powers such as Italy and Colombia will be left out this time. And while no one would ever argue that North America is some utopian land where there are no systemic injustices or human rights abuses, at the very least, no one’s going to get yelled at for wearing a rainbow shirt on press row.

Oh, and you’ll be able to drink beer, too! So much beer!

For decades, at least since the 1994 men’s World Cup kicked off a soccer boom in the United States, the sport’s fans in this country have looked forward to the moment when the United States truly announces itself on the global stage in the men’s tournament. (The two-time defending champion U.S. women, despite some recent setbacks, still rule their sport and are widely expected to continue to do so at next summer’s women’s World Cup.) And there may be no better opportunity than at the 2026 tournament, when the sour taste of the Qatar World Cup will finally be gone, and we’ll all be ready for a straightforward, no-strings-attached, let’s-all-just-enjoy-the-greatest-sporting-event-in-the-world World Cup.

It also will help that the United States should have a vastly improved team by 2026. The second-youngest team in the 2022 tournament should be in its prime, in front of its home-country fans. It may well be the crescendo moment for U.S. men’s soccer.

The saddest part about any World Cup is when it ends, when you realize you have to wait four long years until the next one. But, thanks to the irregularities of this World Cup, you don’t even have to hold out that long this time: It’s only 31/2 years until June 8, 2026, when the opening game of the 2026 World Cup – which, I repeat, will not be held in Qatar – kicks off.

Gratitude from the rest of the world is not something Americans have had a lot of experience with this century. But in 2026, the world will be grateful for us, and our World Cup. And not just because of the beer. Though the beer does not hurt.